


The Only Way Out

by heavensfeel



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Black is a good colour, Desperation, Everyone's losing it, Fluff, Hoe removal services please, I am a gardening tool, I'm losing it, Losing it at photoshoot, M/M, Merch drop, What on earth is the only way out?, Where is the way out of thirsty hell?, You're losing it, thirsty af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavensfeel/pseuds/heavensfeel
Summary: Eddy stans were brutally murdered by the latest merch drop: "High neck practice shirt", and Brett's photo in a high-neck was nowhere to be found.Thing is, it's not just Eddy stans who have been broken.Someone else is too, but at least that brokenness can be made whole again by his very own heartbreaker.Brett's POV.Reinterpretation of the merch caption: "The Only Way Out". Like dads, hello???? WDYM?????
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 31
Kudos: 68





	The Only Way Out

“Damnit Eddy, we’re running late! Hurry up!” Brett was calling from the living room impatiently, having let himself into the house knowing that Eddy had most likely passed out from exhaustion the day before working into the night and had slept past his alarms. He had to wake him up, and while that would have been enjoyable most days, today was not the day to cozy up in bed. They had a shoot, and so Brett had to withhold the loving peck on Eddy’s lips as ‘punishment’.

Eddy struggled into his clothes quickly without thinking about what it was. It was hanging over his chair – clean enough for the day. The Spring Sonata jumper, ideal for the biting cold that nipped away at him in the Australian winter, coupled with his favorite pair of low-riding jeans. He was grabbing his jacket, coat and keys when Brett burst into the room.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s the new merch today!”

Brett marched over to Eddy’s desk, ripped open the top drawer and dug out their newest merch: the high neck Practice shirt. It was mostly still pristine in its plastic wrapping save for the one time they’d taken it out to test the size, and they’d folded it without too much care before putting it back. Tearing the plastic apart, Brett threw the shirt at Eddy, who caught it and murmured a ‘thanks’ and began stripping again, while Brett’s other hand threw the plastic away into the wastepaper basket. Brett had to resist – his hands ached to have it running over that smooth, toned torso, but business was business. Plus, Eddy looked kind of grumpy (being late for work wasn’t something that he wanted to wake up to).

As Eddy changed, Brett packed up Eddy’s work bag, shoving the laptop, pens and papers in alongside a spare camera. When Eddy was properly dressed, Brett was done too, handing Eddy’s bag to him. He reached up, tiptoeing a little to stare into Eddy’s beautiful dark caramel eyes, which were at that moment clouded with tiredness and stress. The hazy look cleared however, with a light, warm kiss on his forehead. Eddy reached out to hug Brett in return, circling his arms around Brett’s tiny waist as he returned the kiss, right on top of Brett’s head.

“Love you baby. Let’s go.” Eddy nuzzled his face against the warm fluff of hair that was Brett’s, and the words were muffled but Brett could hear it still – and feel the thrumming and vibrations of Eddy’s voice – as he pressed against Eddy’s chest, the heartbeat strong and steady and warm.

Hand in hand, they left the house, a warmth of happiness at the simple joys of life, right beside each other even in mundanity.

* * *

They pulled up at the museum, just 5 minutes later than what was originally intended. Brett was just relieved they weren’t pulled over with a speeding ticket, and they jumped out of the car, Brett locked up and they dashed to where their photographer and stylist was waiting.

A hundred meter sprint was not much, but for two not-very-fit musicians who spent 40 hours practicing rather than working out… one couldn’t expect very much. Thankfully it wasn’t much to worry about, as their photographer was just setting up and taking some test shots. Some profuse apologies later, the show got started.

They already discussed the creative direction beforehand, but they had to try out different angles and poses, alongside the right way to style Eddy’s hair befitting of the vibe of the shot. They skirted around the perimeter of the building, with its tall columns rising above them majestically. The chilly wind wasn’t as bad as they’d expected, so Eddy wasn’t bundled up in the varsity jacket, instead laying his arms bare as he flicked his hair from side to side while complying with the photographer’s instructions.

Watching from the side and letting the professionals run the show, he could gaze at his boyfriend unabashedly. Even from afar Eddy was stunning – black was truly a color he had the poise and confidence to pull off. The color made one appear slimmer, and it was true for Eddy, the color accentuating the shape of his face and body, making him sharper and… intimidating sometimes, so to speak.

Encased within those tight, low-riding black jeans were the finest legs on earth, tight and toned entwined around Brett’s body, he could feel the memory vividly.

Brett shook his head, returning to his contemplations of Eddy’s torso, his face, how the shirt really worked for him. It was a design in the style of one of his favorite shirts on Eddy, and the shirt, hanging slightly loosely on him, drifted slightly in the wind and pushed against his body such that the slightest contours of his body were visible.

His left arm was now resting on the railing on the staircase, a light grip…

Grip on the railing, and Brett knew just how tender and feral that grip could be. Sensitive to every throbbing vein, relentless in power and speed.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, it was ten in the morning.

Anyway.

Brett pulled his eyes, up and away from the seductive legs and arms and towards his face.

And got side-tracked by the neck. That collar, loosely hanging around the bottom half of the neck, hid away the treasure of that long, slender neck. Perhaps what is beautiful is what is hidden. That’s the mystery of life that keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?

Except, this wasn’t a mystery, as much as it was a tease. The collar neckline paved the way up to the rest of the exposed flesh and neck, and his million-dollar jawline. And the hair framing his face, the sunlight glinting on the golden frames.

 _IT WAS TEN IN THE MORNING_ , Brett screamed to himself in frustration.

Brett tilted his head to the side in frustration, shutting his eyes. He couldn’t do that forever though, especially when Eddy was calling for him.  
  
“Hey Brett! Is this okay?”

He ran over to the photographer, who was gesticulating while Eddy was still in that pose, to show how they would frame that shot.

Brett realized that, 1. Eddy was halfway up the staircase, while Brett and the photographer were about five steps below, and that power dynamic was dizzying, 2. Eddy’s gaze into the distance was a thoughtful look, an intense and magnetic look that would always compel Brett to sink into his eyes, feel his deepest and rawest emotions, the purest and unrestrained look as he looks into Brett’s when they make love, and 3. Holy shit, this, they found the perfect angle, god bless this photographer, he was getting a bonus, Brett Yang swore on his life.

This was a business photoshoot, but every series of shoots recently had increasingly tightened his throat, constricting it and thinning the surrounding air out. When professionally done up, Eddy looked hotter than ever. And that was on top of his killer fashion sense to begin with.

As Eddy looked away into the distance while the camera clicked away, Brett, standing below, just wanted that gaze to redirect to him. And for a moment, Eddy’s eyes blinked, his gaze shifting down towards Brett as a smirk danced across his face, and then melted back into a cool indifference, the gaze flitting back towards the distant scenery. He tilted his head up just a little, but with so much grace that Brett’s legs were beginning to shake a little.

Peasant, the gaze said.  
  
Bend before me, the spatial distance between them said, as Brett looked upwards at his man.

Dig into me, the soft, exposed flesh underlined in black by the collar said.

For fuck’s sake. Brett popped open the cap of his water bottle as he leaned against the other railing, gulping down thirstily. Metaphorical and physical thirst. Brett Yang was a filthy fucking hoe and he knew what he needed before the night even fell.

“Alright?”

The shots were done, approved, Brett weakly gave a thumbs up and thanked the photographer, promising the payment soon.

Walking back towards the car, Brett’s lips were sewn shut, as he tried not to focus on how he wanted to pull the damned shirt apart.

Eddy, on the other hand, was more relaxed, jovial, now that their task had gone smoothly, and was blabbing on about something that honestly, Brett couldn’t remember what it was about.

At some point in time they reached their car, and Brett knew that Eddy knew something was off.

Eddy’s arms snaked around Brett’s waist again, this time from the back, and snuggled his face into the crook in Brett’s neck, and in his deep, breathy voice:  
  
“What’s wrong, Brettybae?”

Oh, shit.

Brett remained silent, but the arms that were around him was definitely noticeable and fanning the flames. Yanking himself out of his grasp, he swiftly threw his arms around Eddy’s neck and tiptoed to look right in his face, pressing their bodies against the hood of the car.

“There’s only one way out. You know what I want. Drive faster.”

Brett’s low growling was one of need that was boiling, bubbling, and almost overflowing.

Pushing himself away, he dumped the car key into Eddy’s almost-open palms, before leaning in for an aggressive, passionate kiss.

Chuckling, Eddy got the gist immediately.

And so they risked another speeding ticket for the second time that day, and it wasn’t even twelve noon yet.

* * *

Empty house, thankfully, because Brett’s raging boner wasn’t going to settle if it wasn’t empty. Eddy had been such a tease, going on and on about how Brett’s desperation was endearing. As much as he loved the younger boy and knew he was as needy, it was a painful ride, a fine line between stripping down in the car and doing it there and then, and holding out, in the name of modesty and propriety. He’d really rather TwoSet not be known for something other than classical music.

Pushing him through the door and slamming it shut, Brett was climbing on him, like a clingy koala, but an especially noisy one right now.

“You, on top, nowwwwww,” Brett moaned, as Eddy nipped at his neck, his hands riding up Brett’s shirt while Brett’s were already up a second faster, feeling the tender skin that somehow gave way, to the hardness of the muscles, fit and ready to decimate him. Damn the shirt.

One way out of the shirt – pull it over Eddy’s head, over and done with this teasing shirt. And the only way out for Brett’s raging lust, to consume and devour that lust.

The shirt was freed, Eddy’s glasses swept along with it, but he merely giggled his boyish, soft laughter, and his eyes twinkled, his fingers trailing down Brett’s body as he pushed Brett with his body, towards his room, reaching beyond him to open the door, towards his bed and slamming Brett right onto it, with Eddy falling on top of him and his legs entwined around Brett’s.

Their lips met, melting into each other for a second, before sucking away, pouring their energy into it, the more they did it the more they wanted the other, and now it was love oozing out, the desire to make the other whole, to protect, to make happy, all of that passion mingling together and they broke apart, breathing heavily and without a second thought Eddy pushed himself up and slid downwards, pulling off Brett’s pants and underwear in a single, fluid movement.

That firm grip, once on the railing, was now back where home was.

Brett cried out, in relief, as Eddy’s hands started moving, softly at first and so painful for the one who had been holding it in for so long that it wasn’t enough, it just wasn’t enough, and Brett’s hips bucked up, craving for the satisfaction he knew he wanted but was denied.

Before he could open his mouth and complain, though, Eddy shot him a glare, the warmth barely in his eyes, instead that smirk, that powerful, disarming smile.  
  
“Work for it. You haven’t earned it yet.” That voice – the Professor persona, Wenuhin – that voice of smooth caramel and bitter coffee, fear and pleasure intertwined, excited him.

Brett couldn’t argue with that force, both terrifying and exciting, as he pulled Wenu- Eddy’s pants off, ripping his boxers off with his teeth and devouring the throbbing monster, with his small, cute mouth.

In, and out, up and down, deeper, and deeper.

And then, a tentative lick, as he caught his breath.

Eddy shivered and moaned in need, and gently nudged Brett’s head back down, and Brett eagerly consumed: his tongue swirling around the thick, veiny cock, tracing, and then sucking and nibbling, and the slight sweetness of the smell, the saltiness, it was all Eddy. No hesitation at all, and he plunged again, hitting the back of his throat, pushing it as deep…

Eddy then withdrew, groaning, and panted out –

“Good.”

And Eddy leaned forward, with his hand now on Brett’s manhood again, pushing Brett down to continue their aggressive kissing. He was dominating, powerful, his hand working deftly at Brett’s, slowly, but surely picking up the pace as Brett became more excited, his kissing more intense, pleasurable, and he moaned into Eddy’s, the more he felt the spasms of pleasure coursing through his body.

And all of a sudden he stopped.

Grabbing the lube from their bedside drawer, Eddy slicked up where it mattered most and then, knowing that Brett wasn’t going to hold on for much longer, he hoisted Brett’s legs onto his shoulders, which hung comfortably but tensed as the clenching to prevent orgasming was still there – and then Eddy slowly eased his way into Brett, while his hand kept their magic movement going rhythmically.

Their hands were now all over each other, Brett having gotten up to an inclined position, closer to Eddy, grabbing and tugging at each other’s hair and arms and back, and Eddy pushed Brett back down on the bed, as he felt himself hit the prostrate, and then with all his strength, pumped harder and faster, his arms pressed down on Brett’s arms. Brett was seeing nothing but Eddy, his soft skin, the lines of his body, blurry but sharp in his mind, and all of a sudden whiteness flashing across his vision as he let go, the intensity of the orgasm flushing through him, a sticky mess on Eddy’s face and torso. Heat flushed through him, his sensitive dick still throbbing slightly, but that sensation did not last for long as Eddy came too, right into him, and pushing all the way in, he moaned, so loudly, and the sweet release felt even better, looking into Brett’s eyes, dazed with pure love and filled up as they locked eyes.

Eddy slowly pulled out, and joined Brett in bed, lying down beside him and holding him close. Brett’s arms were around his torso, leaning against his chest, the intensity of the heartbeat now apparent. Loud as it was, it was comforting, it was his heart as well, their souls were definitely one. Eddy’s chin, propped against Brett’s head, with his arms around Brett: yes, nowhere better to be.

Brett looked up, a beautiful pink flush on his cheeks, his tinted, rosy lips rosier than ever.  
  
“Thank you.”

Eddy smiled, tracing his fingers across Brett’s nose, eyes, jaw, lovingly caressing it.  
  
“Anytime. Thank you for making me happy as well.”

“Sorry it happened at such an inconvenient time.”

“Well. There’s one more merch drop.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Huh.”

“I just have to beg, right?”

Brett looked up and grinned. Eddy shook his head, and traced his hands across Brett’s delicate, beautiful body.

“Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> God. No beta-ing, wrote this in two hours, I was thirsty, the merch drop killed me. That's all. Eddy nation how we doing? (Anyway I love Brett, they're both my bias wreckers, I just wish that I hadn't been in Eddy lane recently because now I am Broke Just STEP ON ME)
> 
> Ok back to regular programming soon. 
> 
> And clearly, I've never written raunchy work before. So to do this now, is peak thirst. God.


End file.
